


We Once Lived

by Empyrian



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: And I mean the very end of it, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, DNC!WoL, F!WoL - Freeform, F/M, Lovers to enemies to lovers, Sad and Sweet, Spoilers for the end of Shadowbringers, WoL is the Fourteenth Councilmember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyrian/pseuds/Empyrian
Summary: Emet-Selch isn't satisfied with the goodbyes he gave the Warrior of Light at the end of their fight, but something peculiar about their bond let him pay her one more visit.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	We Once Lived

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I, too, was unsatisfied with the interactions between the Warrior of Light and Emet-Selch/Hades. Afaic, this is canon, and at the very least, nothing in it conflicts with canon (I think). Hit me with those comments because I need validation to survive.

“Ah. There you are. Hello, welcome back to the world of the living.”

The Warrior of Light opened her eyes blearily and looked around, searching for the source of the voice. It sounded...familiar. 

She found that she was sitting in a plush red armchair inside what appeared to be a richly decorated study, not entirely unlike those of Count Edmond in Ishgard. It was warm, pleasantly so, due to the fire that cracked and fluttered in the hearth. Expensive-looking rugs covered a solid, well-polished wooden floor, and there were several paintings of distinguished looking individuals hanging on whatever parts of the walls were not covered with bookshelves, themselves filled with dozens upon dozens of volumes, organized in an aesthetically pleasing yet haphazard way. There was a well worn desk made of what seemed to be polished mahogany on one side of the room, and behind this, there was a window that appeared to look out onto a peaceful evening sky. She felt almost as though she could hear music in the distance as well, soft, perhaps as though someone was playing a piano a few rooms away, the peaceful tones drifting past lazily.

The Warrior looked down. She was wearing her dressing gown, which made her feel a little underdressed for the lavish chambers in which she sat, but it was in fact hers. The last thing she remembered had been falling asleep in her room at the Pendants, but…

“I do not take kindly to being ignored, even by one so important as yourself, ye mighty Warrior of Darkness.”

Now more aware of her surroundings, she looked quickly to her left, to the other chair near the fire, the chair her eyes had slid over without properly registering a moment ago. In it sat the Ascian Emet-Selch. Hades. He wore his elaborate and well-decorated Garlean coat, and his hair and visage were both immaculate, as always. His lips quirked up in something like a smile. 

She jolted in surprise, reaching for her chakrams out of habit. They were never far from her, even when she slept. But try as she might, she couldn’t find them. Her hands slapped aimlessly at the sides of the chair, then at her own hips, searching for the weapons, before she had a moment to think. She had just woken up here. If he had wanted to harm her, he had ample opportunity. The Warrior of Light looked back up at the Ascian, eyes narrow and suspicious. She spoke carefully, articulately. “For what purpose am I here? And how…”

That was the problem. She had slain him herself, months ago. Mental images welled up to the forefront of her mind, unbidden. Ardbert’s axe embedded in his chest. The crystal shattering as Thancred blew the shards into the transformed Hades’s body. His final words.

“Remember, we once lived.”

She felt something in her chest, a pang of emotion she hadn’t been expecting. Remorse? No, that wasn’t it. Loss? Perhaps. She focused on him yet again. There was a small table to the side of their chairs, which held a bottle of wine and two glasses. She could have sworn there hadn’t been anything there mere moments ago.

“There. Now you seem as though you’re all here with me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were elsewhere. Perhaps several places at once. Would you like a glass of wine? A fine vintage, if I may be trusted on such matters.”

His smile deepened just slightly at his own joke. The Warrior frowned, choosing her words carefully.

“I...suppose I’ll have a glass. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Ascian?” she asked, trying to sound polite and unthreatened. At this, Emet-Selch frowned.

“Come now, so formal? We have seen so much, you and I. You know my true name, a privilege not afforded many in recent memory. Use it. If I may hear it, from your own lips. Humor me.” There was a strange, far-away look on his face.

“Hades, then.”

He sighed softly, closing his eyes. 

There was a moment where neither of them spoke. The music from outside settled around them, almost as warm as the still-burning fire. The Warrior of Light cast one more glance out the window behind the desk, taking in the view of the blue-black sky peppered with stars.

“I thought we killed you,” she continued, quietly. 

Hades opened his eyes, the spell of the moment broken, and began carefully pouring two glasses. He sat them both on the table, and the Warrior chose the glass closer to Hades. He snorted derisively, his usual mask of snark and sarcasm settling back into place.

“You most certainly did. An experience that was quite unpleasant, and I would much rather you hadn’t.”

“So how is it that you are here now, speaking with me? The last thing I remember is falling asleep in my private room. By myself.” She emphasized the last two words.

“Mm? Oh, perhaps you’re dreaming and I am but a figment of your imagination. You did kill me after all, and quite permanently. Or perhaps some of my aether attached itself to you in my last moments and this is my last conversation before I pass on to whatever lies beyond. A last bit of trickery. Does it matter, truly?” Hades took a sip of his wine and closed his eyes, enjoying the flavor. 

The Warrior of Light sipped her own, closing her eyes, and found it to be quite good. Hades could apparently be trusted to pick a fine wine, at least. Full bodied and red, it was the sort of wine that would have been far too bitter, if not for the sort of cloying sweetness that seemed to hide beneath the bitter. It was...appropriate. She turned to look at him once more, and found that he was watching her curiously, somehow seeing her and seeing past her at once. It made her just a little uncomfortable, but at the same time, she found that she didn’t mind enough to comment.There was a barely-disguised longing in his eyes. She took another sip.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter, no. I don’t suppose there’s much I could do about it even if it did,” she added drily, earning her another chuckle.

“No, not in particular. I wanted to speak with you again, that is all. Our final meeting was a bit rushed and antagonistic for my liking. We didn’t ever get much of a chance to parley, you and I. Not alone. And so I hoped that you might, again, humor me. After all, though we did part somewhat bitterly, I do respect you. And not just for who you once were, when you were whole.”

“When I was whole…?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She remembered Hades hinting that he knew her before the worlds were Sundered. Or rather, knew the person that she was a part of.

“Yes, when you were whole,” he repeated. “Come here for a moment, if you would be so kind.” Hades stood and crossed the room, moving to the window that continued to draw the Warrior’s attention. After a moment’s hesitation, she followed, tightening the belt on her dressing gown as she stood. 

He stood quite motionless, looking out the window and onto the city beyond. The same air of fond, wistful longing as before had returned, and she followed his gaze to see Amaurot, as it once was. Not the phantom city that she fought through on her way to confront Hades several months ago, but the construction from Hades’s memory that sat at the bottom of the sea. It looked peaceful now. From this height, she could see there were a few people bustling about on the street below, those too-tall figures in their robes and masks moving with a purpose, and she pondered the implications of this being a dream. Would her mind really be able to create something so vivid, so real, based on only passing glances of a facsimile? She considered it briefly before Hades spoke again.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, softly. 

“It is,” she replied.

They stood in silence for a moment, then another.

“Do you remember?” he asked.

“I don’t.” To her surprise, there was a note of genuine regret in her voice.

“I didn’t think you would. Even still.” The longing was tinged with pain this time.

There was another beat.

“I had no choice,” he said.

She considered her reply for a moment.

“There is always a choice. With the things you knew, you could have been a hero. By your own words, it sounds as if you were, once.”

“Heroes are for stories,” he said, bitterly. “What would you give, if all you knew and all you loved was torn away from you? What would you sacrifice to have it returned? Would you not give everything?”

“Anything and everything but the lives of the innocent.” The Warrior spoke confidently.

“How very like you.”

He didn’t sound bitter this time. His tone had softened. There was something else, though. Fondness. “You know,” he continued, “you said something very similar to that on the last day.”

She remained silent.

“The fourteen had convened to decide what needed to be done. We were mostly of one mind, of course you know that. I shan’t repeat a story you have already heard. But there was one voice of dissent.”

“Mine.”

“Yours. Or rather, what you used to be. You stood before the council and spoke with such fire. Such passion. I heard shades of it, still, when you spoke to me in the city those months ago. You condemned us. All of us. Including and especially myself. I must confess, it gave me pause.”

“Clearly not enough pause,” she said, with an edge to her words that surprised her. Where had that come from?

“More than most could have. You told me that you could not abide this action. You told me that you had presumed to know me, to know my heart, but that you must have been mistaken, because only something cold and dead could make a choice as I did. You pleaded, with tears in your eyes, for me to stand with you.”

Hades didn’t move his body, but his eyes slid over to her, then back to the window, and up at the stars. He took another sip of his wine before he spoke again.

“I loved you.”

She felt as though she should have been more surprised. But there was something within her, some small feeling that she couldn’t place the origin of. The feeling itself though, it was the same longing she heard in him.

“You still do.”

This time, it was Hades that was silent.

“I feel it. Deep inside. I don’t think…” she said, finding it hard to speak. Her throat was tight, and she forced herself to focus on the streets of Amaurot below. “I don’t think I ever stopped. I think that’s why I trusted you enough. Why I let you come close, even though I knew who you were. Hades, even after all that, I never stopped believing in you.”

He remained quiet, but as the Warrior of Light turned to look at him, she could see that his cheek was damp, just slightly. It was barely noticeable, but reflected in the light from outside, she could see a thin line from his eye to his chin. He finished his wine, and sat the empty glass on the desk behind him.

“I had to try, you understand. I am...so tired. It has been so long, too long to bear the agony of our people on my shoulders. I knew one way or the other, this would be over. Either I would succeed, or I would not have to continue to walk this road.”

The music wrapped them inside itself and pulled them close, the emotion in the subtle harmonies almost a tangible thing, like silk ribbons weaving and drawing them together. Though she could not explain why, she turned to face him. He turned as well, and extended his hands.

“I have to go.”

She found that her eyes were damp now, too. Though she was less subtle about it than Hades.

“I know.” The Warrior of Light hated how choked the words sounded. This man was the enemy, some distant part of her warned. And yet, some other part of her, some ancient sliver of her soul recognized him as more. Pained. Broken. Damned. 

“Did you know we would dance, before the end?” he asked, taking both of her hands gently in his own. The tenderness was something that should have surprised her, but she wasn’t herself anymore. She was standing in a ballroom, surrounded by mingling Amaurotines as a small orchestra played on the other side of the room. She was looking Hades in the eye, and she was laying her head on his shoulder.

“We did.”

“Shall we have just one more?”

“We shall.”

She let him lead, as he lifted her hand up to the side. She swayed with him, delicately, to a song she had never heard, doing a dance she had never done, yet somehow she knew every note and every step as if they were as easy as breathing. She felt the fur of his coat, his breath hot on her neck, his body pressed so intimately with hers, his fingers laced between her own, and despite having never been so close to him, she felt at peace with the familiarity of it. They moved together, two halves of a whole, reflections of each other, for what felt like hours. 

Eventually, the music faded, and she was the Warrior of Light once more. She stood in the study, her glass of wine half empty and forgotten on the desk beside them. The Warrior met his eye and for the first time, she understood him. The words came unbidden before she could consider them.

“I had to.”

“I know.”

“I don’t regret it.”

“I know.”

“I still love you. Despite it all.”

He smiled wanly at her, his eyes not leaving hers.

“I know.” 

She hesitated. “I won’t see you again.”

He shook his head, ever so slightly. “No. This was all I could do. We had a bond deeper than most, and that let me remain with you, for a time. But no. You won’t. You’ll remember me though, until the end. And perhaps then, in that vast sea of souls, we will have one more dance. Until then, remember...”

She finished for him. “We once lived.”

Hades leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, just once. Chaste, yet it said much and more. The Warrior of Light stepped back as the room began to fade to white around her, and she could swear just before he faded out completely, she could see Hades, wave at her in that infuriatingly confident way of his. It was almost enough to draw her attention from the tears rolling openly down his face.

The Warrior of Light awoke to the soft morning light streaming through her window. She was in her bed, in her room, at the Pendants, in the Crystarium, on Norvrandt, on the First. She was the Warrior of Light and Darkness. She was once more fully herself.

The Warrior realized she was clutching a pillow close, as if it were a child’s stuffed toy. She felt at her cheeks, which were wet with tears. 

As she looked out the window of her room and into the dawn, she could almost hear the strains of gentle music, feel the sway of a dance that still lay deep within her, and she wept softly and silently for having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me @lycoris_author on twitter!


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